


Making Up Is Hard To Do

by DeansDirtyLittleSecret



Series: Professor Dean Winchester AU [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Professor Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:40:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4736348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeansDirtyLittleSecret/pseuds/DeansDirtyLittleSecret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader and Professor Winchester are not in a good place, thanks to Bela and her big mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Up Is Hard To Do

I’d been calling her for an hour, but Y/N was either ignoring my calls or had turned off her phone. Most likely the latter. I tossed my phone to the couch after leaving her yet another message, leaned back and closed my eyes. I wanted to kill Bela for opening her big, goddamn mouth and shitting all over the best thing to happen to me in years.

I never should have told Bela about Y/N, never. But she’d slipped right back into the role of my confidant, someone I could talk to. I thought we were friends, I thought I could trust her. I should have known she’d be jealous, she’d always been jealous. Stupid me, I’d figured after she broke up with me and moved on with her life I wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. I’d been wrong.

I’d seen it on her face as soon as I’d introduced them, that flash of irritation in her eyes, that smirk that usually meant she was going to do or say something that _I_ would regret. Then she’d opened her mouth and made me out to be an asshole.

It was true that I’d felt like I loved Bela and it was true that I’d come back to the States to get away from her. But after I’d moved, it hadn’t been long before I realized that maybe I hadn’t loved Bela as much as I’d thought I did, if I’d even loved her at all. We’d gravitated toward each other, two people in a foreign country, strangers that only had each other. It had only seemed right that we started dating and eventually, I’d thought I was in love and that Bela was too. But when she broke up with me, she was kind enough to tell me that she’d never loved me. So I’d left, more out of embarrassment than anything.

I picked up my phone and dialed Y/N’s number again. Still no answer. Another message. I was starting to worry.

I wanted a chance to explain myself. I’d never been that good at expressing my feelings, I always managed to open my mouth and insert my foot, say the wrong thing. The only thing I was comfortable doing, that I was really good at, was teaching. Relationships, not so much.

My phone rang as I sat lost in my thoughts, chastising myself over and over for the stupid mistakes I’d made, for not being honest with Y/N from the beginning. I nearly dropped it to the floor in my haste to answer it, and when it wasn’t Y/N, I knew the disappointment was plain in my voice.

“Wow,” Sam chuckled. “Guess I’m not who you want to talk to. What’s up?”

I told Sam what had happened, everything. He was, not surprisingly, very supportive. Sam had always been my best friend, he’d had my back when Bela had screwed with my head, he’d stepped up and helped with the situation with Jo, his own sister, and he’d been one hundred percent behind me through everything with Y/N. If there was anyone I could talk to, it was Sam.

“Dude, you know Bela pulls shit like this all the time,” Sam sighed after I’d told him what had happened. “She lives to screw with you.”

“I know,” I mumbled. “But it’s not all Bela. I shouldn’t have lied to Y/N about Bela. I was just trying to spare her feelings. I should have known better.”

“Yeah, well, you and knowing what’s best for you haven’t always gone hand and hand,” Sam said. “You always were kind of an idiot when it came to stuff like that.”

“Bitch,” I chuckled.

“Jerk,” Sam retorted. “Look, come play some basketball. We’re having open gym tonight and it sounds like you could use a break.”

“Yeah, give me an hour, I’ll meet you there,” I replied. Maybe Sam kicking my ass at basketball would help me get my mind off of everything that was happening, help me gain some clarity. I could certainly use it.

* * *

Even though I was supposed to be concentrating on playing basketball, I’d been calling Y/N off and on all night, despite Sam’s annoyed huffs of breath and eye rolling. She hadn’t answered, not once. At the same time, I’d been ignoring calls and text messages from Bela. I had no idea what she wanted or why. Sam had finally taken my phone and turned it off, telling me it was for my own good.

Thing was, he was right. Once I’d stopped worrying about my phone and Y/N and Bela, I’d been able to relax and have fun. I enjoyed hanging out with Sam’s friends - my friends - they helped me forget what was troubling me for a little while. I was grateful for that.

I hadn’t wanted to go home, so Sam took me out for coffee and pie afterwards. It was easy to hang out with him, we’d known each other since high school, gone to the same college, been roommates and friends for a long time. I didn’t even have to talk when I was with him, he understood me without a lot of conversation. By the time we went our separate ways for the night, he’d managed to make me feel better _and_ elicited a promise from me to help teach the mythology unit in his English classes.

My route home took me past The Percolator. I slowed down and pulled to a stop at the curb, about a block from the small coffee shop. Maybe the reason I hadn’t been able to get in touch with Y/N was because she was working. Maybe I’d just drop in and see if she was there.

I didn’t see any parking spots on the street in front of the shop, so I left my car where it was and hurried up the sidewalk.

“Let her be there,” I muttered to myself.

* * *

_ You leaned against the counter, sipping from the cup in your hand. You were tired, the emotions of the day having caught up with you and pushed you right to the edge of sanity. _

_You’d sat under the tree on the soccer field until the sun had started to go down. That’s where Brady had found you. He’d held out his hand and offered to take you for a cup of coffee or tea. You’d agreed, more out of a need to stay out of your lonely dorm room than to spend time with Brady. He wasn’t a bad guy, just a bit pushy and annoying._

_Brady had tried multiple times on the walk over to The Percolator to draw you into conversation, but you weren’t in the mood to talk. You were beginning to realize that you might have been too quick to anger and made a rash judgment fueled by your jealousy of Bela. You needed to talk to Dean. He’d been calling, but you wanted to talk to him in person, not on the phone. You figured you’d grab a quick cup of coffee with Brady and then head to Dean’s._

_It had been quiet in the coffee shop, the only person working was the new girl, Lizzy. You and Brady had helped yourself to coffee and taken a seat at the bar along the back wall._

_“Better?” he’d asked after a few minutes._

_“I guess,” you had shrugged. “It’s been kind of a shitty day.”_

_“Want to talk about it?” he’d said._

_“Not really,” you’d answered._

_Brady had shrugged and returned to sipping his drink. The silence was becoming awkward and you had started trying to think of the best way to escape for the night when Lizzy had come out of the back and asked for Brady’s help._

_You’d used the opportunity to dig out some money and move to the counter. When Brady came out, you’d make your excuses and leave. That was how you’d ended up leaning against the counter, waiting._

_You must have been absorbed in your own thoughts, because at first it barely registered that there was a hand on your back and then Brady was **in your face** , inches away and then his lips brushed over yours in a quick kiss._

_Over Brady’s shoulder, you could see Dean staring at you through the huge pane glass window, a bewildered expression on his face._

* * *

It was nearly two a.m. when the cab dropped me off in my driveway. I tossed some money over the backseat at the driver and stumbled from the car. I had to hold the door for a second until I got my legs under me, than I somehow managed to close it and weave my way across the lawn to my front door.  

I nearly fell through the door after I unlocked it, catching myself just before I did a faceplant on the carpet. There was a single light burning in the hallway leading to the back of the house, the same light I always left on. I squinted, a hand over my face to block the the light from my over sensitive eyes. I made my way to the kitchen, dropped my keys and backpack on the kitchen table, grabbed a water and the bottle of aspirin before sitting down. I rested my head on my arms and tried not to think about all that had happened.

After I saw Y/N and Brady and the kiss she swore was nothing, I had turned around and stalked back up the street. A few seconds later, I’d heard the sound of running feet and Y/N yelling after me to wait. I’d climbed in the Impala and reached to close the door by the time she caught up with me.

“Dean, please,” she’d said. “It was nothing. You have to understand, it was literally nothing. Brady kissed me, out of nowhere. I would never hurt you like that. Never. Just wait a minute, talk to me.”

“I’m just giving you what you want, Y/N. Time to think,” I’d said, shaking my head. I had slammed the door and left in a blur. I could barely remember starting the car and pulling away. I had driven until I found a bar, parked and gone inside. I hadn’t stopped drinking until closing time, then I’d caught a cab home. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much to drink.

I opened the water and spent the next few minutes struggling to open the aspirin bottle, cursing under my breath. I finally got it open, downed two pills and laid my head back down on the table. It was going to be a long night. I forced myself to stand up, not wanting to fall asleep at the table, though I didn’t feel like making the trek upstairs either. The couch seemed as good a place as any.

Except Y/N was on my couch, a blanket from my hall closet covering her. She was asleep, but it couldn’t have been for very long; I thought I could see streaks from tears on her face in the dim light. Her shoes were under the table, she was wearing my old gray hooded sweatshirt, the one I’d stolen from Sam back in college, and she had a blanket from the hall closet thrown over her legs. I rubbed a hand over my face, wondering if I was hallucinating in my drunkenness or if she was really there. But she was still there when I pulled my hand away from my face.

I crossed the living room, trying to be as quiet as possible. I sat on the floor at the side of the couch and just watched her sleep for a few minutes.

She must have felt my eyes on her, because hers opened slowly. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey,” I answered. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you,” she said, pulling the sweatshirt tighter around herself. “And I came to apologize.”

“You came to apologize? For what?” I was the one that should have been apologizing, not her. “I know that nothing happened with that guy, I just...I lost my temper, acted irrationally. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“But I do,” she said, shaking her head. “Not just for the stupid kiss with Brady, either. I acted upset about being a rebound thing, but that’s not what I was upset about. I know when we started seeing each other that there was no expectation of a long term thing. But our relationship grew and evolved and changed, and that’s what matters, where we are now. What I’m really angry about is that you lied to me. You told me you didn’t love Bela, but that’s not the truth. You were in love with her.”

I took her cold hands in mine. “I thought I did love her, but I _never_ loved her like I love you. You own me, Y/N, heart and soul, every part of me. When you came into my life, when you _took over_ my life, everything I ever thought I knew or believed about love changed. I had no idea what love was until you. There isn’t anyone or anything that matters more to me than you. I love you, like I’ve never loved anyone before. Bela? Bela was nothing compared to what I feel for you. I love you. I will always love you. I can’t have this end, not when it has barely begun. Not when I need it to last forever.”

I could hear the hitch in my voice, feel the thickness in my throat, feel the tears ready to fall. I couldn’t lose her, couldn’t let her get away from me. I put my hand on her waist and laid my head on the couch next to her. She wrapped her arms around my head, pulling it against her chest and running her fingers through my short hair.

“I love you,” she whispered and now I could hear the same thing in her voice, the quiet desperation, the intense need to figure this out, to make it work. I could hear the catch in her voice as she cried. I pulled her into my arms and laid us on the couch, holding her close. She pressed her face to my chest, her tears soaking the front of my shirt.

I held her, gently rubbing her back and hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head, murmuring calming words to her until the tears dried up. I closed my eyes, sending up a silent prayer that we would be able to survive yet another blow to our relationship.

I was half asleep, drifting in that netherworld between waking and sleeping, in that place where you couldn’t be sure what was happening was real or not. I felt soft lips against my neck, a tender touch roaming over my body. I tightened my hold on Y/N, burying my face in her hair.

“Let’s not fight anymore, okay?” she whispered. “No more lies, no more secrets.”

“No more lies, no more secrets,” I agreed, dipping my head in a slight nod, pulling her face to mine and kissing her. “I promise.”

“Me too,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine.

There were no more words after that, we didn’t need them, we had our own way of communicating. She slid a hand over the front of my shorts, massaging my soft cock, her teeth biting into my neck. She brushed her tongue over it, nibbling along my jaw to my ear, then her hand slipped beneath the edge of the basketball shorts I was wearing and took my now half-hard shaft in her hand. She stroked it slowly, her mouth moving constantly over my neck, her breath warm against my skin.

It was slow and easy, hands and mouths everywhere, clothes coming off with little effort. She sighed when I slid my hand between our bodies and caressed her, my fingers brushing over her clit, pinching it gently between my fingers, her hips jerking just the tiniest bit. I pushed a finger inside her, pumping it carefully in and out, smiling at the little gasps and moans of pleasure it elicited from Y/N.

I pressed my back against the couch, easily lifted her and turned her around, raining kisses over her back. I palmed her breast, my thumb rubbing over her nipple as I entered her from behind, rocking my hips slowly until I was fully seated inside her. We moved together, my hips snapping up to meet hers as she pushed herself down on me, moaning my name. I pinched and tugged at her nipple, rubbing her clit with two fingers as I fucked into her from behind, our bodies sex-sweat slick, her nipples hard nubs under my fingers as I held her against me, moving faster and faster until I felt her trembling beneath my sure hands and she was gasping my name as she came. I thrust roughly into her as her walls clenched around me, drawing my own orgasm from me.

We laid together until the sweat on our skin was drying and the chill in the air was raising goosebumps on my skin. When I felt Y/N shivering in my arms, I grabbed the blanket we’d kicked to the end of the couch and arranged it over the two of us. I wrapped my arms around her, nuzzling her neck.

“I love you, Professor Winchester,” she murmured.

“I love you, too,” I sighed. “And I love it when you call me that.”

I fell asleep, Y/N’s quiet laugh filling my ears.


End file.
